Institute of Modern Russia

In the first six months of Vladimir Putin’s “new” presidential term, the Kremlin essentially destroyed the Human Rights Council—an authoritative institution that used to play a significant role in the dialogue between the authorities and civil society. After the Kremlin-initiated reforms, this group became a mere decoration, a second edition of the infamous Public Chamber. On November 12, President Putin himself met with the members of the revamped Council. He seemed pleased to observe the unmaking of his “advisors.”

Few were surprised to see that the official return of Putin to the Kremlin led to a “restoration” of sorts, namely, the reversal of the liberal course (the “thaw”) pursued by Dmitry Medvedev. Yet few observers expected this shift to happen so swiftly and with such minimal compunction; they didn’t expect that the already fragile remainders of Russia’s democratic institutions, such as the Human Rights Council, would be reshaped to suit the changing times.

In the four years prior to Putin’s new term, the Council got a new lease on life and came a bit closer to the watchdog role that it could potentially play in the framework of a civilized democratic system. It criticized the antidemocratic initiatives of the Kremlin, conducted a largely unbiased review of the Yukos case, published substantial analyses of the Magnitsky case, and publicly demanded the resignation of Central Election Committee Chairman Vladimir Churov. Skeptical observers might respond, with good reason, that the practical impacts of these activities were negligible, as the president continues to sign bills into law without regard for the Council’s opinion, Mikhail Khodorkovsky and Platon Lebedev are still in jail, the culprits in the death of Sergei Magnitsky are still at large, and Churov is still in his seat. And yet the Council did perform its intended function of human rights advocacy. Those of its decisions that were unpleasant for the authorities created discomfort within the Kremlin, placed it in a defensive position, and confirmed the many misgivings of human rights organizations about the prospects of Russia’s democratic institutions.

And now the Kremlin has done away with this agency in two consecutive steps. First, it changed the procedure of election to the Council. At the start of Putin’s new presidential term, the Kremlin was lucky to have several authoritative members of the Council resign in protest of the new developments. Among those who tendered their resignations were Fyodor Lukyanov, Ida Kuklina, Aleksandr Auzan, Svetlana Gannushkina, Yury Dzhibladze, Tatiana Maleva, Dmitry Oreshkin, Emil Pain, Yelena Panfilova, Leonid Radzikhovsky, Alexey Simonov, and Igor Yurgens. Irina Yasina and Svetlana Sorokina had resigned even earlier, in December 2011, in protest against parliamentary elections fraud. These departures inflicted significant damage to the reputation of the authorities but were also a big relief for them, as the Council was left with virtually no members capable of standing up to the Kremlin and expressing critical views. Ludmila Alexeyeva, chairperson of the Moscow Helsinki Group, was the last to resign from the Council, citing a loss of confidence that the institution could still perform its intended functions.

The authorities presented the reform of the Council electoral process as a step in a more democratic direction. Indeed, in the past, the head of the Council, Mikhail Fedotov, submitted the names of prospective members for consideration to the president (Please, read IMR's exclusive interview with Mr. Fedotov here). But in the Kremlin’s opinion, this approach ran the risk of Fedotov picking inappropriate candidates. Thus, Fedotov lost the trust of the authorities and became the butt of a negative pro-government media campaign. It is worth noting that this campaign is still in full swing, with Fedotov recently lodging a complaint about ongoing surveillance. The Kremlin was unable to influence Fedotov as much as it wanted; meanwhile, the new procedure of online voting for prospective Council members provided ample opportunity for the Presidential Administration to promote more convenient candidates.

Here it is important to distinguish between procedure and politics. The electoral procedure was designed from the outset to make it impossible to hold elections that would satisfy all parties. The selection of candidates was inherently biased, and Council members found themselves at an impasse: the process of filling the vacant seats was fraught with the risk of sparking a major scandal—which did not fail to materialize. Oversight of the election of new members was entrusted to a working group of the Council that was set up to conduct the initial screening of the candidates. At this stage, the group only examined candidates’ basic documents and experience. Each candidate was proposed for a role that would handle a specific set of responsibilities within the Council; each person had to have no fewer than five years of experience in this particular area.

A number of well-known Kremlin loyalists, including Aleksander Brod, director of the Moscow Human Rights Bureau (left), and Maksim Shevchenko, TV host at the First Channel (right), became new members of the Human Rights Council.

By September 1, the working group had identified 83 names. These people were listed on the Council website and online voting was held. It was precisely at this point that the scandal broke: it transpired that many of the candidates submitted by the Kremlin had failed the initial screening. Thus, for example, the working group decided that it was wrong to include members of the Public Chamber in the list of candidates for the Council. A number of other Kremlin-sponsored candidates either had insufficient experience or failed to submit their documents in good form. As a result, the roster excluded such people as Aleksandr Brod, director of the Moscow Human Rights Bureau and member of the Public Chamber; Valery Engel, deputy chairman of the presidium of the International Human Rights Movement “World Without Nazism”; lawyer Vladimir Zherebenkov; Vladimir Koptev-Dvornikov, co-chair of the “Civic Control” Association for the Defense of Voters’ Rights; Yury Shulipa, general counsel of Russia’s Federation of Automobile Owners; and Anton Tsvetkov, chairman of the board of the national “Military Officers of Russia” organization.

These people claimed that they had not received any explanation of why their candidacies did not make it to the online voting stage. According to Aleksandr Brod, “This procedure was shameful, dirty, and dishonest. We want to start a collaboration with all of the rejected candidates and we thus decided to create our own Public Council on the Development of Civil Society and Human Rights. The reason is that the present Council has been monopolized by insiders and is resistant to change.” Brod went on a hunger strike but soon ended it for health reasons. Putin ultimately included him in the Council by presidential appointment.

The Kremlin also granted Fedotov the right to use his own judgment and submit the names of candidates to the president regardless of the outcome of the online polls. This allowance also raised many questions. In some cases, Fedotov recommended those who he believed would contribute more to the Council instead of those who won in online polls. Thus, Fedotov decided that Lilia Shibanova, executive director of the GOLOS Association (and, according to a recently passed law, a “foreign agent”), should fill the slot of Voters’ Rights Defender in the Council—even though she only received 38.7% of the online vote, while Igor Borisov, former member of the Central Election Commission, finished first, with 43.3% of the vote. For the slot of Defender of Human Rights in the North Caucasus, Fedotov recommended Igor Kalyapin from Nizhny Novgorod, chair of the Committee Against Torture, who received 22.8% of the vote, even though TV host Maksim Shevchenko, who is known for his pro-Kremlin views, took first place in the runoff, with 24.6% of the vote.

The final list of candidates to the Council that landed on President Putin’s desk included many oppositionists or their sympathizers: Elizaveta Glinka, executive director of the Fair Assistance charity (known to the public as Doctor Liza); TV host Leonid Parfenov; Novaya Gazeta reporter Elena Masyuk; Pavel Chikov, chair of the Agora Association of Human Rights Organizations; Valery Borshchev, chairman of the board of the Social Partnership Fund and member of the Yabloko Party.

Thus, the Kremlin’s glass was only half-full. The scandalous elections inflicted considerable damage to the Council’s reputation. This suited the interests of the Presidential Administration. For obvious reasons, it does not wish to have an authoritative critic next door. And yet the list of candidates submitted to Putin was clearly at odds with the priorities of the Kremlin: there were just too many oppositionists, too many independent human rights advocates, and too many journalists.

And then the authorities launched the second stage of Council reforms. Putin proposed to offer seats to not one but the three top contenders for each of the slots. Thus, when taking into account incumbent members who did not participate in the online elections, the size of the Council would expand from 40 to 65 people. In addition, Putin proposed to establish a presidium of the Council in order to keep this much larger body manageable.

The Council’s incumbent members initially objected to this reform but were unsuccessful in halting it. Sergey Tsyplenkov, head of Greenpeace Russia and a member of the Council, stated that “creating a presidium is not a wise move. It is counterproductive and creates excess bureaucracy. It means that there will be different categories of Council members. I would rather set up working groups for specific issues.” Valentin Gefter, another Council member and director of the Human Rights Institute, noted that “the Council is a horizontal institution, and it does not need a hierarchy. But this is not my main point. The main problem is with the principle according to which the Council is being formed. It will consist of 60 very different people, including members of the Public Chamber and members of parliament. I think it is impossible to work in such a Council, it is a wrong idea. I will not be able to work there.” He added that “the expansion of the Council will make it less efficient and will dilute its core, the group of people that do the everyday work, with a large number of people who will be unable to partake in it. This Council is not a parliament or a town hall. If it gets filled with the people who spend 90% of their time in the Public Chamber, in the parliament, or in the mass media, its quality will be inferior to what it used to be.”

Sergey Tsyplenkov, head of Greenpeace Russia (left), and Valentin Gefter, director of the Human Rights Institute (right), have publicly criticized Vladimir Putin's decision to expand the size of the Human Rights Council. They both said that this decision would create excess bureaucracy and blunt the effectiveness of the Council's work.

The refurbished Council includes a large number of Kremlin loyalists, such as Shevchenko, Brod, and Borisov, as well as Iosif Diskin (a member of the Public Chamber) and Alexey Pushkov (chair of the Duma Foreign Affairs Committee). Thus, the Kremlin was able to jam the voices of its critics in the Council by reducing their share of total seats. And finally, the authorities made it difficult for the Council to make decisions that might be unpleasant for them: 65 people with incompatible views on a given situation will hardly be able to come to an agreement. The Council is now paralyzed—and the audience in the Kremlin is watching.

This gridlock is the reason behind Putin’s mischievous smile when he proposed that the Council put forth its own amendments to the most controversial laws that have been or are about to be adopted. Thus, speaking about a new law that requires Russian nonprofit organizations involved in public affairs and public opinion to register as “foreign agents” if they are funded from abroad, Putin proposed that all organizations that “don’t do politics,” including environmental and human rights advocacy groups, be exempted from this requirement. Putin also suggested that the parliament not rush ahead with a controversial bill that would criminalize offenses against religious sensibilities. This bill would set criminal penalties of up to five years of jail time for performances similar to the one staged by the Pussy Riot band in the Cathedral of Christ the Savior in February 2012. Nevertheless, he immediately defended the overall principle of the law, signaling to his party in the Duma that they can keep moving in this direction. Putin also acceded to the proposal to clarify the definition of libel in the Criminal Code (even though what aroused public indignation was the decision to reinstate the article on libel in the Code, regardless of its definition). Finally, he advised the Council to take a second look at a bill that would expand the definition of high treason.

Taken together, all these actions look like outright mockery of a Council that the authorities have disabled politically. It will be difficult for the Council to even discuss controversial political topics, let alone make decisions that do not produce new scandals. One of the most intriguing questions concerns the future of the liberals who ended up in the new Council and will have to decide for themselves whether they are willing to play their roles in this show. If they decide not to take part, within a few months, it is likely that their vacancies will be filled with “real patriots.”